Search & Rescue
by S.A.N.e-but-inS.A.N.e
Summary: When Paige asks Mike to help her on one of her cases, it quickly goes from a simple takedown to a life-threatening situation. Even injured, Mike will stop at nothing to rescue Paige with or without the help of the other residents of the Graceland house.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! This is my first Graceland fic and I am pretty excited. I am a definite Pike shipper so if you don't like that, I suggest you don't read on. If you do like it, I tried to keep them in character as much as I could. This is what I think would be their relationship if they just simply gave into their feelings. **

**P.S. If you are following my Grimm story, Cops and Robbers Don't Mix, I am working on it. There will be a list of excuses... I mean explanations when I update that story. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything associated with the TV show Graceland. All recognizable characters, etc. are property of those who are involved in the show's production. If I did own it, I would be in the show and every episode would have me making out with Aaron Tveit. A girl can dream...**

**Enjoy!**

**Search & Rescue **

**Chapter 1**

The damn warehouse was on fire. Flames licked at every corner and crevice, melting and destroying everything they came into contact with, almost as if they were toddlers using markers for the first time; eager to see what would happen when varying colors were plastered wherever they could reach. But, the only colors Mike could see were intense oranges and reds, and where the fire was the hottest, deep hues of blue. He needed to get Paige out of her.

"We need to find a way outta here!" shouted Paige over the ever-present crackling of burning materials.

Mike glanced around the room trying to find an exit. It was disorienting the way the smoke covered the room, making it feel like there was a thick opaque window closing them off from civilization. He could barely see Paige's soot-stained face and had to go off the sounds of her coughing to be able to find her.

He briefly heard pounding, something like heavy boot falls tromping through hallways, and he almost put it down to the fire burning God-knows-what, when three heavily armed men burst through what would have to be the door Paige had led Mike through not ten minutes ago.

Before they could be seen, Mike pulled Paige behind a couple crates that were surprisingly still intact and _not _on fire.

"Who are these guys?" Mike whispered to Paige as the men continued to search the warehouse.

"That's Viscard and his men; they probably caught onto my investigation of their heroin importing business," answered Paige, matching Mike's whisper. She seemed to be lost in thought until pieces of the puzzle clicked into place.

"Damn it! They've probably been working with Jacoby so they can get larger amounts without drawing too much attention to themselves."

Jacoby was the reason they were currently at the warehouse. He was probably the one who tipped them off to Viscard.

Movement caught the corner of Mike's eye. They would have to figure out what was going on later. First, they needed to find a way out before they were burned to death or suffocated, which every came first. Mike pulled his gun.

Paige seemed to sense the danger too because she immediately pulled her weapon from its holster, ready to take on the threat.

However, before she could protest, Mike mumbled a quick "cover me" and leaped out from behind their cover, gun-a-blazin'.

"Dammit, Mike!" Paige muttered, quickly firing shots in rapid succession, unhappy with the lone ranger crap.

* * *

The sounds of gunfire slowed. Mike managed to take out two of the three men, but Viscard was still around somewhere.

"Come on Viscard. I know you're not going to hide forever," he sputtered out between forceful coughs.

"Mike-"came a breathless voice.

Mike instantly froze when he saw Paige. Blood was seeping slowly from a wound on her temple, conspicuous against her too pale face. Mike could tell she was dazed from an obvious pistol whip which probably explained why Viscard had been able to get her into a chock hold, gun pressed against her neck.

No way in hell Paige would go down without a fight. Mike could tell by Viscard's stance that he would be nursing a couple of bruised ribs tomorrow.

_That's my girl. _

"If you cooperate, we can probably cut you a deal!" Mike firmly trained his gun at Viscard, attempting to search for a clean shot but knowing it was futile. He couldn't shoot without hitting Paige. He would resort to that at the last-minute. Perhaps he would never resort to the idea.

"Yeah…right. As soon as I walk out, I will be surrounded and you'll lock me up for life!"

"I promise that won't happened if you just let her go!"

Mike was grasping at straws, but Viscard didn't need to know that. He was simply stalling the situation. Backup was still ten minutes out. They didn't expect to be ambushed; they didn't even want the backup, but overprotective Charlie and not-to-be-argued-with Briggs insisted on it when they heard what they were doing.

He was grateful they did.

His eyes were watering and it was getting harder to hinder the powerful coughs wanting to rip out of his chest. He looked at Paige and knew that she wasn't faring much better.

He desperately needed to figure something out, and he was wracking his muddled brain for the first _good _idea to pop up when a loud creaking noise overhead drew him from his thoughts.

He lowered his gun slightly to investigate what was going on. It would be a huge mistake he would beat himself up about later.

Viscard saw this as the perfect opportunity to escape while Mike was distracted. He dragged Paige to the exit, training his gun on Mike. He wasn't going to let the bastard keep him from taking her.

A single gunshot rang out.

* * *

There was sound, reverberating through the concrete walls and a small flash from the muzzle of the gun, and then silence other than the sound of flames still destroying.

Disorientation clouded Mike's mind and before he knew what had happened, he felt agony lace up his leg. With no intention to, he cried out, the leg collapsing beneath him, leaving him sprawled across the warehouse's dirty floor, gun momentarily forgotten.

"Mike!"

He vaguely heard Paige shout his name, but he was too preoccupied with being swallowed by white-hot relentless pain to react to her voice. He could feel blood flowing out of the wound, but he couldn't bring himself to stop the bleeding. His energy was sapped, adrenaline pooling out like a leaky faucet. He could feel cold seeping deep into his bones, leaving him shaky and weak. He coughed, trying to expel the breath stuck in his throat and all the unknown particles the smoke held. He had to get up and get Paige, but he couldn't find the vigor.

So, he watched with clouded eyes as Viscard pulled Paige from the burning warehouse.

And as the darkness consumed him, his last bright-sided thought was:

_At least she won't burn to death._

He couldn't say the same thing for himself.

* * *

**Review and let me know if I should continue it!  
**

**P.S. If you are following my Grimm story, Cops and Robbers Don't Mix, I am working on an update. There will be a list of excuses...I mean explanations when an update comes through. So sorry guys! **


	2. Chapter 2

**I am beyond overwhelmed with all the reviews/favorites/alerts. Thank you guys! It really makes my day when I find positive feedback in my inbox. Keep it up! **

**As for the promo for the next episode…Paige! I didn't have any idea when I started writing this that there would be an episode arc of this nature. Oh well, you'll like mine better because of the Mike whump, right? ;) Anyway, I tried to make this a longer chapter. I will be out of town for a while and I don't know when I will be able to update again, so be patient! **

**Review!**

**Search & Rescue**

**Chapter 2**

Paige tried frantically to escape her captor, but her movements were sluggish and uncoordinated.

_Stupid pistol whip._

She had to get to Mike's side, get him out of the warehouse before he died. It was _her _case; had she not asked Mike to help, he wouldn't be in this situation. She didn't even realize when she started crying, hot tears leaving tracks down her dirty cheeks. In the past, she would've blamed it on the head wound, but she knew better now.

Vaguely, she felt the hot smoky air turn into that of fresh air, revealing the cloudless sky.

"Please! You can't let him die in there!" she tried to reason with Viscard knowing it was futile. In any other situation, she would be ashamed of begging and pleading with her suspect, but this was Mike she was talking about. Sweet, caring Mike, with that stupid infectious smile and that fighting will to make everything right and make everyone happy.

She couldn't imagine a world without all the stupid characteristics she had come to love. She couldn't imagine a world without _him._ She couldn't help think that he possesses great potential as a FBI agent and as a friend, but lately she had realized something else.

He has the potential to be much, much more. He may have all those great attributes, but Paige knows what else he possesses and it's something so much greater, so much more meaningful, and so much more complicated to obtain.

_Her heart._

Somehow he worked himself into Paige's heart without her consent, but it's better to ask for forgiveness than for permission, she thinks. But, she also considers that if he had asked for permission, her heart would have acted in the same manner.

_The heart wants what the heart wants. _

She didn't care that her lungs could finally breathe in the fresh air because, frankly, without Mike, there was no reason left to fight.

No _reason _left to _breathe. _

* * *

He felt unfamiliar hands on him. His brain could make out distant voices. He forced his eyes to open and as his eyelids fluttered, it brought forth a blurry scene of figures before him. He couldn't decipher who they were.

Fight mode was still planted firmly on his mind; his first instinct was to fight back, but when he found he was unable to move, he panicked. He could hardly breathe, deep enough breaths hard to come by. He felt several pairs of hands lift him from the ground and place him on something extremely hard and uncomfortable.

He tried to get free from their grasp, but his body was too weak. And suddenly and with no warning, he was staring up at the bright blue sky, blindsided by sunlight that sent daggers through his eyes, gulping in precious air like a fish out of water, eyes clenched shut. Sputtering, wet coughs exploded from his overtaxed lungs as the dirty, particle-filled air tried to flee and fresh air tried to replenish it.

The hands placed him on something else but he wasn't too concerned with discerning what it was. At the moment he was trying not to panic as he kept choking and gasping like he had swallowed water while surfing (and he had first-hand experience with that analogy).

"Easy," he heard someone say close by. A gentle hand placed something hard and plastic over his nose and mouth. Feeling confined, he immediately tried to remove it, his limbs uncoordinated, his arm flopping limply against his chest in a quest to reach his face, but another hand intercepted his.

"Leave it on, Levi; it's helping you."

Everything after that was blurry activity with that of panic, discomfort, and vertigo, oh my.

Once, someone was poking and prodding his leg and he vaguely felt that he should know what was happening and why he was in this situation, when his world exploded with white-hot pain as something pressed down on it, and it was all he could to do not to pass out. choking and coughing on the air he thought so invigorating at first, he clenched his fists and cried out.

"Paige!" His voice was weak and muffled by whatever was obscuring his face, and suddenly he was panicking again. Not knowing why and feeling mortified for calling and seeking her out, all he could do was lie there, panting, waiting for the pain and nausea to ebb. He just wanted everything to stop, or at least slow down enough so someone could explain it to him. Everything was just so confusing and painful and confining and _blurry_.

He felt that hand again, but knew it wasn't Paige's. But it did help calm him down. He felt fingers carding through his hair, and he couldn't help but relax at the feeling. Able to breathe more regularly, he tried seeking a face to the hand, but it only served futile when everything was clouded by unshed tears and disorientation from the smoke and pain and overall, the situation.

"It's okay Mike…everything's fine. Just relax."

He didn't miss the whispered words.

"We'll find her."

With that, he lost the tenuous hold on consciousness and buried himself in the calmness and the ever un-blurred darkness, not confusing like the world before him holding those varying voices and sensations and thoughts because darkness only came in one color.

_Black. _

And he could live with that for now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you for all the follows and favorites-both for the story and me as an author. You guys are amazing! Read and review if you have the time! **

**Here it is:**

**Search & Rescue **

**Chapter 3**

Charlie paced the emergency department's waiting room, arms folded across her chest, a sign of deep concern marring her facial features.

"Why haven't we heard anything?" Charlie asked in frustration.

Briggs looked up from the magazine he was half-heartedly flipping through.

"Charlie…"

"You didn't see him Paul. The kid was practically… practically…" she choked.

"Chuck, he lost a lot of blood and on top of that, he was stuck in a burning building for God-knows-how-long. No news is good news; it means they're doing everything they can to help him."

Charlie, pacing momentarily forgotten, glanced at Briggs. Her arms unfolded, one going to rest with her hand on her hip the other brushing through her long hair.

She sagged in defeat.

"You're right, you're right. I just can't help think this situation is similar to when he got stabbed. He's family Paul, even when he's a pain in the ass, and I don't like it when our family is hurt." She pinched the bridge of her nose.

"And Paige…" she trailed off, unable to talk about the missing agent, another family member. She rubbed a hand down her face, trying to compose herself.

"Hey, come here," Briggs stood and wrapped both hands around her waist. Charlie instantly sagged against him, head meeting his shoulder.

"Mike will be okay; he's a fighter. He pulled through last time, he'll do it again. And we'll find Paige and get her back; she knows how to handle herself, but I promise you we'll bring them both home and you can mother-hen them as much and as long as you want."

He smirked at the last part. Everyone knew Charlie was the mama bear when it came to the Graceland residents.

Charlie sighed, knowing the male agent was right.

"Okay?"

"Okay."

* * *

Paige surveyed the room they had deposited her in, her wrists and feet bound. It was small with concrete floors and walls and a single light bulb in the center of the ceiling, illuminating only a small amount of the room.

_Looks like something from those dumb horror movies Johnny insists on watching,_ she thought.

She'd been in this room for what seemed like an eternity and she couldn't help thinking about Mike. Did back-up reach him in time? Did he succumb to his wounds or the smoke? Did the flames get to him?"

She intentionally didn't mention the "d" word. That would be too final and she didn't want that.

She was pulled from her thoughts when Viscard barged through the door. He slammed it closed and made his way to where Paige sat on the cold floor. He knelt before her and placed two fingers beneath her chin when she refused to look at him.

"Agent Arkin, I'm offended. When you were undercover you had no problem seducing me, but now you can't even look me in the eyes."

He waited a beat for her to respond and when she didn't, he continued.

"Is this because I shot your little FBI boyfriend?"

_He just wants a reaction; don't give him one. _

"He probably bled out, that is if the fire didn't kill him first," he smirked when this made her squirm against her bonds.

"He's not my boyfriend," Paige muttered under her breath, trying to get the attention away from Mike; Viscard could very much use her relationship against her.

"Oh? Well, you could've fooled me, the way he protected you in that warehouse. He'd take a bullet…wait…" he chuckled at this. "Well, I guess he already did do that, didn't he?"

Viscard smiled as if to say sorry.

He wasn't sorry. Far from it, actually.

"The bastard did put up a fight. Almost feel sorry for shooting him. If he's willing to go to great lengths for you, Sweetheart, he definitely loves you."

"He was just doing his job," Paige tried, glaring daggers.

"Please, doing his job my ass. I saw the look in his eyes when I pulled my gun on you. That wasn't just standard FBI protocol," Viscard explained. "There was definitely the heat of passion and love burning deep within him. No pun intended…"

Paige didn't deny it.

He grinned, showing his perfect teeth.

"If that isn't poetic, I don't know what is."

"What do you want, Viscard?"

He stood, pulling his suit jacket straight, buttoned the middle button, and began fiddling with his expensive looking cuff links. His hair slicked back, his shoes shined and un-scuffed, his suit impeccably clean and wrinkle free, and his face clean-shaven suggested the air of a wealthy sonuvabitch, at least in Paige's book.

She had spent several weeks infiltrating his business, pretending to be his go-to-girl for advice, help, and a little extra on the side; she hadn't enjoyed any moment of it. He was a jerk, obsessed with money and violence and selling drugs. She was glad that he had stopped coming to her for a while even though they had reached a standstill in the case. That was around the time she had started working Jacoby's case. She had no idea that the two knew each other. She had no idea how they had found out she was a federal agent.

She had no idea how she was going to get out of this mess.

"If I had known how much the FBI dude, Mike is his name? If I'd realized how much he meant to you, I would have taken him instead." He laughed sadistically when a low growl escaped past Paige's lips.

He began pacing in a circle around her.

"Easy there. You see, I want to get back at you because…" he paused for dramatic effect.

"What, no drum roll?" Paige felt his breath hot against her ear as he knelt behind her.

"Fine," he said clamping his hands painfully on Paige's shoulders, "You, Princess, being a Fed screwed me with Jacoby," he all but sneered. Finger nails dug into flesh, but Paige bit her lip against the pain.

"But, I am willing to look past that because I want Jacoby more; he stole my shipment and you know how I get about my money. Somehow he found out about your real occupation and ran off knowing you were on to him. He warned me about you, but not before he up and left saying he told you about his meet at the warehouse. That little coward; I should have never trusted him."

The drug dealer released the painful grip on Paige's shoulders and once again came to kneel in front of her. He patted her cheek and Paige tried, unsuccessfully, to shrug it off.

"You, young lady, are going to help me get my shipment back. Then, we will see about your release."

Paige mulled this over. She knew he wouldn't release her, risk of coming after him again and all, but if he was going to take her with him around town to help get the shipment back, she could try to escape then.

"Means," she said.

"What?"

"_Means. _You said that Mike _meant _something to me. He _means _something to me. He's not dead." She bit back. She felt the need to justify this, hoping against hope that it wouldn't blow up in her face.

"Keep telling yourself that, Sweetheart."

And she would.


	4. Chapter 4

**Search & Rescue**

**Chapter 4**

Briggs released Charlie when he saw a haggard looking doctor approaching from the corridor.

"Are you the agents that came in with Agent Warren?" His name badge read Dr. Vanguard.

"Yes. Is-"

"Is he alright? Can we see him?" Charlie interrupted before Briggs could finish.

"He was brought in with a GSW to his leg, right below the knee but we managed to remove the bullet. On top of the obvious blood loss, we are treating him for moderate to severe smoke inhalation due to his exposure in the burning warehouse."

Charlie flashed back to when they had pulled him from the fire, coughing and sputtering, his face stained with soot, his lips discolored with a blue hue, and a chilling paleness that could give Casper a run for his money. She was afraid to touch him at first, but when she saw the blood, she had to comfort him as he panicked when the oxygen mask was secured to his face.

She tuned back into what the doctor was saying.

"As of now, there are no lasting affects, but we will know more as time progresses. We are very optimistic that he should make a full recovery in due time. Rest is key at this point. We've settled him in a recovery room while the drugs wear off from surgery. If you'll follow me you can see him for a few minutes. Once he's in a regular room you'll have more time with him."

Dr. Vanguard turned on his heel and didn't see if they would follow him. He held the tablet in his hands out to one of the nurses as they passed the nurse's station. He nodded his thanks as she put it away.

The doctor led them through the hallway, turning several corners and Charlie knew she was going to get lost on the way out.

By the time they reached the recovery ward, both Briggs and Charlie were silently thanking the heavens for keeping Mike alive.

As the door opened, the physician led them to the second curtained off area.

"Oh my God," Charlie gasped as she took in the sight of Mike and went to his side.

"I assure you, all of this is there to help him," Dr. Vanguard motioned to the monitors.

"Thanks doc," Briggs shook his hand.

He nodded and left the room quietly.

Charlie rubbed Mike's forearm, the one currently not home to IV needles feeding him blood and pain medication.

"He looks so small," she said absently, taking in Mike's pale face, an oxygen mask obscuring half of it. He looked so exhausted, the most exhausted she's ever seen him. Even asleep, exhaustion had a way of showing; his eyelids looked bruised and swollen under the harsh light and compared to his stark white face.

Briggs came up on his other side. He too was having flashbacks to the day Jangles had stabbed the kid. That's all he was.

A kid.

A rookie, yet he'd seen and been through so much more. More than a lot of agents see in their lifetime.

Suddenly, he was aware of his papa bear instincts shining through; it didn't happen often, but he realized that they came through whenever Mike was involved. Sure, they came through with the other Graceland house members, especially Charlie and Paige, but it was different with Mike; perhaps it was because he was his training officer or at least he told himself that. He so desperately wanted to trade places with him, and he would if he could. He may come off as the hard ass agent with no feelings, but deep down he really did care about the agents in the house, family as Charlie kept calling them.

_A dysfunctional family at that_, he thought, _but _family_ all the same. _

And someone took one family member and wounded another.

Dragged from his thoughts by a low groan, he watched as Charlie pushed Mike's hair away from his damp forehead. A gut-wrenching sense of worry spiked through him when he saw the blonds' brow furrowed obviously in pain.

Images came back to him of that day at Bello's safe house, the way Mike clenched his eyes shut and groaned when he put pressure on the stab wound.

Abruptly, he felt a strong wave of vengeful-ness; he wanted whoever did this to pay, to pay for what they did to his family.

"Mikey? Come on, Levi." Charlie continued to card her fingers through his hair like she did at the scene of the warehouse fire. He looked small then, too.

* * *

Coming to was difficult; his eyelids felt swollen and heavy preventing him from opening them. There was that confining feeling brought on by that _thing _on his face, leaving a sense of panic and a foreboding taste in the back of his throat in its wake. He couldn't bring his mind to care; he was too exhausted and that _thing _was helping to make his chest less tight and his breathing less strained. He found that his whole body ached fiercely. He tried shifting slightly, but it ignited a deep pain that seemed to wrench muscle and bone.

He groaned. Not the manliest thing he's ever done.

He felt a hand start carding fingers through his hair. He remembered something of this nature, but he couldn't place it in his muddled brain.

"Mikey? Come on, Levi." He heard someone whisper affectionately. There was really only one person who called him Levi anymore.

Charlie.

With renewed vigor, he forced his eyes opened, immediately blinded by the overhead light. He blinked several times to try to expel the black dots from his vision, each blink becoming heavier and heavier. Pain and fatigue were dragging him down again.

_Stay awake, there's something important to do. _

He opened heavy lids once more and was able to focus on Charlie's concerned face.

* * *

Charlie was taken aback by the intense blue gaze that met hers. Even clouded over with pain and fatigue, they held a look of innocence that gripped her heart-strings. He was just a kid, a very capable and competent kid at that.

She looked briefly at Briggs, and when their eyes met, his mouth set in a firm line, she could already see the gears turning in his head, formulating revenge and a rescue plan before she turned back to Mike.

"Those blue eyes, Levi, they really get to me." She smiled softly when, through the mask, saw the corners of his mouth quirk up slightly.

"You doing okay?" Briggs asked.

Mike shifted his gaze to Briggs. He, too, was startled at those intense cerulean orbs.

Mike brought a heavy hand to his face and pulled the mask haphazardly from his face, letting rest against his neck.

"Mike," Charlie warned.

"Wha…" his voice broke off as an extreme coughing fit erupted from his chest.

"Easy, buddy, easy," Briggs said, placing a hand of comfort and steadiness on the younger man's shoulder. He tried to replace the breathing apparatus, but Mike brushed his hands away.

The coughs eventually subsided, leaving Mike sweaty and panting on the hospital bed.

This little fit brought forth a myriad of memories to the forefront of his brain. It was like turning a switch and suddenly all that transpired today (at least he hoped it was still today) came crashing over him like waves.

Charlie watched as the innocence washed from Mike's eyes and was replaced with weary trepidation, a passionate sense of I'm-going-to-make-the-world-a-better-place-even-if-I-have-to-bear-great-responsibility-all-by-myself, and a fervent stubbornness that could very easily get him killed, but often enough it brought great results. But at what cost? His sanity? His humanity?

He remembered and she hated that he'd had to.

_Stubborn, _she reminded herself.

Panic came back in full swing, the heart monitor beeping shrilly as he became more agitated.

Before both healthy agents could object, Mike pushed himself into a sitting position, dangerously listing to one side as a powerful bout of dizziness threatened to face plant him. He swung his legs, uncoordinated and heavy, over the side of the bed even so, but halted abruptly when his left twinge-d and he almost cried out. Almost; he bit his lip and clamped his hands down harder on the edge of the bed, making to stand.

"Mike! Mike!" Both Charlie and Briggs were animatedly protesting.

"I just… I need…" Mike wheezed, still trying to stand.

"You _need _to lie back down. You're in a hospital for a reason. You're not strong enough to go galloping around town yet."

Mike weakly struggled against them as they managed to push him down to a reclined position, gently bringing his legs around to rest on the bed.

The monitor was still beeping erratically as Mike continued to protest, wincing when his leg was jostled.

"No…I…They…Viscard…" frustration was evident as he tried to get his point across.

Charlie and Briggs held his shoulders to the bed firmly to keep him from getting up. Weakness was still running rampant through the younger man, so it was easy to keep him down no matter how hard he was struggling.

When Viscard was mentioned, she eyed Briggs.

_They'd gotten a name. They'd gotten a lead._

The door opened and Dr. Vanguard and the nurses flooded the ward.

"What happened?" he asked as he read the vitals on the monitors.

"He remembered what happened and was keen on the idea that he was going to leave," Briggs explained, talking louder over the ever-present noise of beeps.

Dr. Vanguard ordered for a sedative as he replaced Charlie and Briggs in holding Mike's struggling frame on the bed.

Briggs pulled Charlie away from the bed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders in comfort.

"Agent Warren, I need you to calm down, okay?"

"No," he complained. "I need to…" The nurse injected the narcotic into the IV port.

Mike coughed again, still adamant about getting up, even as his voice became thin and strained.

The second nurse put the mask back in place, looping the strap behind his head, making sure that it indicated the right setting.

The FBI agent's struggles lessened as the sedative took effect.

"Leave the mask _on_, Agent," said Dr. Vanguard firmly, "It's there to help you."

His eyelids visibly drooped.

"Paige," came the muffled broken whimper before Mike's eyes closed all the way.

"I suggest you go and get some rest. He will be out for a quite a while. The sedative we gave him is fairly strong. He will be alright, but we need to avoid stressful situations at least until he is more coherent."

They nodded their thanks, knowing even when Mike was coherent, he was still going to try to work the case and get Paige back.

"Jesus, Paul. What are we going to do with lover-boy, here?"

He kissed her head as the medical staff left when they felt Mike was stable enough.

"I don't know, Chuck, I don't know."

**Review?**


	5. Chapter 5

**I would like to blame my absence on the many emotions that finale dredged up, but we all know that school absolutely controls our lives. We've all had those teachers that think they are the only ones who assign homework... **

**Enjoy!**

**Search & Rescue**

**Chapter 5 **

The Graceland house was in complete disarray. File folders and papers were strewn across every available surface along with day old coffee mugs and takeout cartons.

Four blurry eyed undercover agents sat in the living room, the unofficial meeting spot for discussion of the events that had transpired recently, grueling over everything they knew about Viscard and Jacoby.

Charlie sighed in frustration. They had been at it all night and finally turned in around three am. Knowing no one was really getting any sleep; they reconvened at seven and were no closer to figuring out where Paige was and why she was taken.

"How the hell did Viscard _and _Jacoby discover that Paige was a federal agent?"

"Maybe someone tipped him off, a CI maybe," Jakes suggested. Even he was broken up about Paige being taken and Mike being wounded. He may act like he doesn't care about anyone and anything except himself and his OJ, but that wasn't true. He gave off that appearance to try to save himself from being hurt. He wouldn't admit it, but it probably had something to do with his precarious relationship with his son and ex-wife.

"Paige doesn't have any CI's except for the one that died on that bathroom floor," Briggs said. There was no doubt that he was irritated and flustered as was everyone else. They had come up with similar theories for the past half an hour.

"I don't know. I don't know about any of this!" Johnny exclaimed in a rare show of anger, "I'm going to go check on Mike." He dropped the file he had been going through carelessly to the coffee table and stood to leave.

He was halfway to the door before Charlie spoke.

"John…"

"What?" he snapped. Everyone was on edge.

She twirled his key ring around her index finger, choosing not to notice the bite to his tone.

"Hotwiring the car know or do you want your keys?"

Johnny grumbled, snatched the keys from her and continued his way to the door, not caring that it made a booming noise as it slammed shut.

"Maybe he will find something out from Levi," Jakes said.

"Let's hope so."

After Briggs' final words, they all went back to trying to figure _something _out.

* * *

There was a knock on his door.

"Come in," he said hoarsely. The smoke-induced coughs had really wreaked havoc on his voice.

When the door opened, it revealed a gently smiling Johnny Tuturro.

"Mike-ay, how are you feeling, man? Last time I saw you you were in la-la land riding the waves of those wonderful drugs," he said as he made his way to the side of the bed.

"Fine," he quickly lied. If he could fool everyone into thinking he was, maybe he could get out of here sooner and get to finding Paige. He closed his eyes, emotionally and physically exhausted.

"Yeah?" Johnny chuckled, not believing it one bit. Between the pallor of his skin, how his body sat rigid on the bed, and the way he shakily inhaled the nasal cannula's oxygen, he could tell he wasn't "fine."

The only response was a muted moan.

"You in any pain?"

"I said 'm'fine Johnny." His eyes reopened, sending daggers in Johnny's direction.

The healthy agent brought his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright."

For a few moments, the only sounds in the room were the electronic beats of the heart monitor and Mike's hesitant breathing aided by the cannula.

"Any luck?" Mike finally broke the silence.

"No, but we are looking into everything. Don't worry about it."

Those were the wrong words to use. Mike's eyes went huge and he instantly raised his voice in a sudden outburst.

"_Don't worry?! _Johnny, this was my fault in the first place! I should have known that the meet was going to go wrong! I should have taken Viscard out first! I should have…done something to…" He didn't have enough air to finish his tirade; it left him panting, shifting uncomfortably, and trying to find a better position to breathe easier. Shifting too much, though, elicited a quiet hiss when the bullet wound voiced its complaints.

"Okay, okay. Horrible, _horrible_ choice of words, but calm down, alright? Getting me kicked out won't help you any." He placed a gentle, comforting hand on Mike's shoulder.

Mike let several pent-up breathes out and continued to try to control his breathing.

"You remember anything that may help?"

"Jacoby tipped Viscard off. I don't know how he found out. Have you been able to find a location on Jacoby? Have you gotten anything off of the bodies in the warehouse? How about the-"

"Mike, we've got it, alright? Take a breath. Try and relax, I or someone else in the house will let you know when we find something."

"No, Johnny. I need to be helping with this investigation. I can't just sit here, twiddling my thumbs when she's in trouble. I need to find Paige." Mike sat up quickly, trying to pull the sheets away, fighting the dizziness and the nausea every passing moment.

"Mike, it's only been a day and a half. Do you really think you can even make it to the door in your condition?"

"I don't have a condition and I need to be working this case. Now either help me get free of these wires or move out of my way; either way, I'm leaving." To prove his point, he began tugging at the IV in the back of his hand.

"Okay, okay. But let me get someone who knows what they are doing."

Mike relented and waited impatiently for Johnny to return.

When he did, he had a very angry-looking nurse and doctor towing behind him.

* * *

"Paige-y," Viscard called sweetly, knocking on the basement door.

Coming out of the basement in the hands of one of Viscard's thugs, Paige glared at the criminal. "Don't call me that."

Ignoring her, he asked, "Ready to go?"

"It's not like I have a choice, do I?" She rolled her eyes.

Abruptly, Viscard grasped her chin painfully in one hand, pulled a gun from his waistband with the other, and turned her to look at him. Paige struggled to get away.

"If you try anything, _anything _at all, I will not hesitate to put a bullet in you," he threatened. Paige instantly stopped her struggles when she felt the cool metal of a gun placed against her temple.

"You don't want to end up like your boyfriend, do you? If not, no funny business, got it?"

Paige stared into the eyes of her captor.

"Yeah, I got it," she practically spit.

He released her and placed the gun back in his pants. "Good, then let's go get my shipment back."

They led her to a faded black van with tinted windows and a rusted hood. She noticed that they were stupid enough to leave a license plate on.

_No wonder it was easy to find an in with this guy._

She filed the numbers and letters away for later. If she couldn't escape, she could hopefully leave a message to her housemates, preferably Mike.

Carelessly, they threw her into the van and slammed the sliding door. With that, they were off to God-knows-where.

* * *

When Johnny pulled up to the house, he glanced at the pale-faced Mike sitting stick straight in the passenger seat, gripping his braced leg. No matter how hard Johnny tried to avoid potholes, it was still a bumpy ride for the stubborn agent.

"Sorry, man."

"It's fine," he replied breathlessly, leaning back on the seat, eyes clenched closed.

"You gonna make it up all those stairs?"

Mike just hummed in response, not trusting his words.

Johnny got out of the car, grabbed the hospital-issued crutches from the back seat, and then went around meeting the injured agent on the other side. He'd only managed to open the door and get his uninjured leg out the car door before he had to pause to catch a breath.

Johnny helped bring his other leg around without letting it bend, knowing it would be extremely painful if it did. The doctor had been very clear about that among other things. They had spent more than a half an hour trying to convince Mike that it was within his interest to stay in the hospital. It had only fallen on deaf ears. They had then spent the remaining minutes of the hour going over what to look for and all the at-home care that needed to be done to ensure a full recovery. Both Mike and Johnny had sat through it and JT had noticed every glance and glare at Mike. Truth be told, none of the medical personnel had been fond of the idea of him leaving so soon.

Neither had Johnny, but he knew why Mike had wanted to leave. It didn't mean he needed to be happy about. He knew the other house members would charge him with aiding and abetting the stubborn FBI agent, but he couldn't just _make_ him stay. He would find a way to get out, going as far as walking all the way back to the house if he had to. Mike was innovative like that.

He hated it.

When he finally had Mike precariously balanced on the crutches, he grabbed Mike's duffel and closed the car door.

They made their way slowly to the staircase, Johnny already sensing the dread in Mike at having to climb them.

The doctors had shown him how to work the crutches to his advantage going up the stairs and in general. Mike had picked it up fairly quickly though he was still shaky and weak from blood loss and smoke inhalation. Even though he had learned how to go up stairs, it was still a painstakingly slow, agonizing trip with several stumbles on Mike's part when he tried to bring his left leg to the ground to try to help.

Johnny could only help so much. It was hard seeing Mike frustrated and hurting. It reminded him of Bello all over again.

Finally, they reached the top. Tuturro held the front door open for Mike. He hesitantly crutched his way in, going straight to the nearest wall to lean heavily against it. His arms were already sore from keeping his body upright and his lungs were working twice as hard as they had to.

Johnny gave Mike a few minutes before he asked, "Ready?"

Mike knew he wasn't asking if he was ready to move again. He knew that Jakes, Briggs, and especially Charlie were going to be furious with him, exploding like volcanoes when he waltzed his way in. Well, more like hobbled in.

He nodded and waited for Johnny to lead the way into the living room. He could hear all three agents bouncing ideas off of each other.

"Hey JT, how's-" Briggs began as they rounded the corner, but stopped mid-sentence when he spotted Mike unsteadily making his way into the room. He was paler than he'd ever been.

Both Jakes and Charlie hadn't glanced up from the paperwork they were engrossed in, but when Briggs' words faltered, they both looked to see what was going on.

Files forgotten, every eye turned towards the injured man.

"What the hell are you doin' here man?" Jakes asked, not hiding his anger.

"Johnny, why the-" Charlie started.

"Guys, please," Mike panted, "I…insisted on…checking out…AMA. If Johnny hadn't…been there…I would've… still done it." No one missed the way he had to pause to catch his breath and the way his trembling arms threatened to give out. When he starting listing to one side, eyes slipping closed, all four agents jumped up to reach him before he could face plant, flashbacks of a similar situation after his prison stay all consuming their thoughts.

Charlie was the first to reach him and keep him from tipping over. Johnny reached his other side and together they supported him enough to get him to the closest couch. He sat down heavily, happy to be off his feet. Briggs took the crutches from his shaking hands and tucked them behind the couch.

Even mortified, Mike let them help him into a reclining position, careful of his braced and bandaged knee.

"Thanks," he said shakily. His eyelids visibly drooped, exhaustion clearly claiming him.

"God damn it Mike, why do you gotta be so stubborn?" Charlie asked quietly and brushed the hair from his forehead.

"You love me though," he smirked tiredly.

"I do and that is exactly why when you are better I'm gonna kick your ass for scaring me."

Mike sighed, knowing that was very much true.

"Sorry."

"It's okay, baby. Why don't you close your eyes for a little while?"

"No, I'm fine. We need to find…"

He stopped when he received four icy glares.

"You'll need your strength later on. We will wake you if we find anything, alright?"

Mike nodded, eyes already slipping closed. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep.

It didn't take long for him to awaken either.

* * *

About twenty minutes later, Mike's phone rang. Having only been asleep for what felt like a mere five minutes, Mike cracked open his eyelids, momentarily disoriented and confused by his surroundings.

_AMA. Graceland. Shot. _

Groaning, he reached out and groped for the ringing device.

"Hello?" He rasped sleepily.

"Mike…"

Mike was instantly wide awake. He sat up quickly, ignoring the head rush and the accompanied dizziness.

"Paige," he said breathlessly.

This time, though, it had nothing to do with his injuries.

* * *

**Evil, right? Review please, even if you do hate me!**


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